


What It Means to be Human

by UntemperedSchism



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Torchwood
Genre: Aliens, Angst, Depression, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Moving On, Pregnancy, Retcon (Torchwood)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntemperedSchism/pseuds/UntemperedSchism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten connected short stories that show glimpses into different points of Gwen Cooper's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Family (Pretend You're a Bride)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally done as an entry for a writing challenge on a Doctor Who/Torchwood roleplay, where I play Gwen Cooper. It was meant to further develop her character by using ten topic prompts: Family, Friends, Light, Dark, Reflection, Complicated, Changing History, Judgment, Forgiveness, and Endings. (This was written prior to Miracle Day and does not take it into account.)

Sunday mornings in the Cooper household were often the same. The Sunday morning of Gwen’s First Communion was only a touch more annoying than all the others.

Little Gwen Cooper turned her nose up at the too-white dress that her mother had put her in. Said mother, Mary, was rushing about busily this morning, excited for her little girl’s big day. As she went in search of the items for Gwen’s hair, Gwen stood in front of the chair in her parent’s bedroom. Her father was grumbling about them being late, pacing out in the hallway just outside the chamber. Gwen hid a smirk; he always did that on Sunday morning. Her mother was back then, shoving dainty little gloves onto Gwen’s hands, lace now lining her wrists. Gwen tried to protest, for she had never been the little girl that wanted to wear delicate dresses and gloves and socks with lace and hats and veils and other things that made her way too girly. Her mother shushed her and proceeded with the preparations.

Gwen was pulled in front of the tall, full-length mirror so that her mother could see the front of her hair whilst she worked from the back. Mary was already brushing it backwards, and Gwen tilted her head to study her frilly reflection in the mirror.

“Gwen!” her mother protested, and the little girl immediately straightened, however unwillingly. Mary had too tight a strain on her hair, and Gwen was already feeling her hairline resisting the tightness of the tug. She grimaced. Her mother hadn’t noticed and was busily trying to get Gwen’s newly-curled hair restrained. Unfortunately, she wound the band one time too many about the shock of hair, but Gwen kept still. It would only provoke her mother to mouth at her again and for her father to come in to inquire on the status of how near they were to being able to leave.

A neat little mess of flowers was placed next onto her head, which was attached to a veil. Noticing the stronger look of distaste that crossed her daughter’s face, Mary sighed, but knelt with a somewhat sheepish smile beside Gwen. “Pretend you’re a bride on your wedding day,” she whispered excitedly, playing slightly with the veil. Gwen looked skeptical for a moment, but once her mother pulled the veil just right, her expression changed as she decidedly accepted this game of pretend. She giggled a little and inclined her head once more, studying her reflection as her mother went off for her bag. A bride? One day. That was every little girl’s dream, wasn’t it?

* * *

Growing up, Gwen’s family had consisted of her, her mother, and her father. There were untold amounts of aunts, uncles, cousins, and distant relatives, but her immediate family was all that mattered. When her parents moved to Swansea, Gwen’s family was no longer close – but they were certainly there for her on her wedding day. However, there was more to her family than that by now.

At this time in life, Gwen had already been working for Torchwood for well over a year, and she had discovered new meanings of the word ‘family’ and various descriptions to go along with it. Words like ‘impatient’ and ‘overbearing’ applied for either group, both for her parents and for Torchwood, and Gwen also had learned that words like ‘insane’ and ‘dysfunctional’ could work for her new family members. For the most part, this group, under the leadership of Jack Harkness, was known to fight aliens and save the planet. However, at this time, Gwen had woken up pregnant on her wedding day due to a bite from a Nostrovite they had been chasing the night before. Just like that, Torchwood had to become the ‘wedding fairy,’ as Ianto had put it, and they had to save Gwen’s wedding. It wasn’t something exactly _normal_ for Torchwood (never mind that said term could not exactly be used for the team anyway), and not only was it an alien, but an alien at Gwen’s wedding.

Despite the more negative words that Gwen had learned to associate with her new family, she had also come to realize that this family would help fight whatever darkness faced her and then stay to dance at her reception afterwards.

* * *

On the same day, after the Nostrovite had been disposed of, Gwen’s mother stood with her, beside a chair before a mirror. Her father paced outside, ready to walk his daughter down the aisle. Gwen was struck with déjà vu, and she grinned at her mother as they faced the mirror together just before she went out to marry, she in a too-white dress and her hair pulled back (much more loosely this time). Her mother helped pin the veil on her little girl and gave her an almost-sad smile. Today, Gwen would be starting a new family with her Rhys, the one who had taught her that family had yet another side to it, and words like ‘loyalty’ and ‘honesty’ were things that could make a relationship and partnership work. Whatever doubts Gwen had hosted before today had completely vanished, and she knew that her life with her new family would be for the best, even if things would be difficult for them in the future.

That didn’t stop Gwen from being nervous – despite her utter joy at the circumstance – as they turned towards the door to go out for the ceremony. “Mum,” she said, her voice trembling even as a nervous smile overtook her features.

“Shh,” Mary said softly, rearranging the veil on her daughter’s head and trying to hide her own bittersweet tear with a smile. “You’re a bride on your wedding day.”


	2. Friends (Weevil Mating Season)

Rhys always fussed about how she never went out with her mates as much as she used to.

Gwen thought about this even as she stood, cursing Jack’s message half an hour before she was supposed to meet a couple of her girlfriends. She was already grabbing for her gun, even as she used her mobile to text the ones she was to meet about ‘something coming up.’

Rhys came into their room and stood in the doorframe. He leaned against it and sighed as he took in what she was doing. “Gwen,” he said, annoyed, “I thought you were goin’ out. With your friends.”

“Well, I _was,”_ she replied, shoving the mobile into her bag and pulling it over her head and across herself. “Somethin’ came up with work is all. I can hardly help it, can I?”

“Surely Jack would let you have the night off – ”

“Rhys,” Gwen said, cutting him off and giving him a pleading look, “they’ll understand. I hardly cancel on them anyway.”

He sighed. “You hardly go out with them anyway.”

To this, Gwen had no response. It wasn’t as though she were running out on _him_ – now that would have been something she would have fought against. Ever since he had learned of Torchwood, Gwen had made it obvious to Jack and the others that if it wasn’t a life-threatening event which absolutely required her participation for the world not to end, she was going to have to stay home with Rhys once she got off of work for the day if they had any plans. She hadn’t properly hung out with her mates though in quite some time, but these things happened. Besides, she was all up for a sewer chase or some other equally glamorous outing tonight.

“We’ll reschedule,” Gwen said off-handedly, unsure if she even had the intention of doing so anytime soon. She checked to make sure she had everything and went over to Rhys to give him a kiss goodbye. “Come now. I’ll be home later, all right?”

“You haven’t even had dinner yet,” he grumbled in a last half-hearted attempt, kissing her back and holding onto her arm.

“I’m sure Ianto will order us somethin’ later, yeah?” She grinned and gently released his hold on her, then made to leave their flat.

* * *

“Fat lot of good that did us, then!” Owen was yelling as Ianto brought in the pizza boxes. He huffed a little as he moved some of the leftover boxes from lunch (which had already asked them to clean up, for he had been out earlier and couldn’t have done so _for_ them, as usual), then set the fresh ones down. He had hardly moved out of the way before the rest of the team crowded around him, snipping at each other and grabbing for slices. He sighed and extracted himself before things got worse.

“Owen,” Tosh started patiently, “if we hadn’t gone in there, we wouldn’t have even been able to get a proper reading for – ”

“It’s always about you an’ your _readings!”_ he snapped, waving his slice at her before taking a large bite.

“Oh, come off it, Owen!” Jack said sternly, glaring at him as Tosh turned away, a little hurt from his insult. “You’re just angry you got called away from your little date!” Tosh flashed another look at Owen, then looked down again, trying to hide her jealousy at this news. “Things didn’t work as planned. Still –”

“Still we learned somethin’ new about Weevils,” Gwen inserted. She couldn’t help but grin teasingly at Owen. “And… what they do during mating season if you get in their way.” The others smirked with her and tried to hold back laughs.

“Right,” Owen said sardonically, rolling his eyes. “Laugh it up, everyone, c’mon.”

“Pride a little hurt?” Tosh asked mock-innocently.

Owen turned and glared at her. “That… is it. That’s it. Now you’re gettin’ it.” Tosh’s eyes widened for a moment and she backed up, unsure of what he was going to do. Owen darted for the couch, grabbing one of the new pillows and chucking it at her. Tosh let out a little squeal as it hit her and made a dive for the other pillow.

Ianto reached out, as though to get it from her, but closed his fist and grimaced instead. He had just picked up new ones earlier, since pillows on the couch in the Hub just never quite seemed to last for very long. “Oh, for the love of all that is good and holy,” he murmured. The pillow had found its way towards him instead of a return at Owen, and despite his annoyance, he couldn’t help but grin and run towards Tosh to grab her as immature havoc was wreaked amongst the other Torchwood members as well.

The pizza was forgotten, as did the hen night that Gwen was supposed to attend before getting called into work. Even as she screamed, fighting Jack for a pillow, she couldn’t help but think that perhaps there were no better friends she could have than the ones around her right now.


	3. Light (Everybody Lives)

Sometimes Torchwood could be like the Doctor in the fact that they took joy in those days where things just seemed to work out and everybody lived. This could have stemmed from the fact that Jack had met said Doctor during one of these days and had carried over the joy from such occasions into the workplace that he had created. There was no denying that all – including Owen – were certainly put in better humor once something actually went right.

“Do I get to go home now?”

Gwen looked down at the little light blue alien that was holding her hand. She grinned. “Yes, sweetie. You get to go home in just a moment.” She looked around the forest clearing where they were standing, in the countryside on the edges of Cardiff. She probably wasn’t alone in feeling a bit nervous when they first arrived here about an hour ago. After all, the last time they had been here hadn’t exactly been… pleasant. But it certainly stuck in the mind. Now, they were here for quite a different objective: they were helping a little child get home. There were days when Torchwood had to defend the Earth, to fight, to kill. There were days when Torchwood had to protect humans from horrible creatures and then send them off so they could save the planet. But this week, Torchwood had had a little girl land on their doorstep, and they had gotten to help someone instead.

“Tosh, are you finding them?” Jack asked, pushing buttons furiously on his wrist strap. He had said that if he could fix the signal enough, he could send a call to passing ship – if it contained the little alien’s parents.

“Just a minute,” Tosh said, slightly irritated, not wanting to be bothered whilst working. She was sitting on the ground, laptop on her legs, typing furiously.

“Bleedin’ cold out here,” Owen muttered.

“Owen.” Jack gave him a warning look, and Owen looked off with a sigh, hugging his too-thin jacket closer to himself.

She had managed to get in the middle of the city. She was scared and didn’t know what to do, where to go. The Rift had uprooted her from her family and her home. She was on a foreign planet and didn’t know how. Tosh had picked her up on the readings, and once they had found her and talked to her, they knew they could help her. A week with a little child at the Hub, albeit an alien child, had actually been more fun than most of them would have expected. She had taken quite a likening to Gwen, and Gwen was a little sad to see her go.

“I think I’ve got them again!” Tosh said excitedly, her fingers going even quicker than before. Gwen smiled, squeezing the little girl’s hand. When she got a return squeeze, Gwen felt a rush run through her. Could something be this simple? She walked over behind Tosh with the alien child, watching the screen as Tosh tried to send the exact coordinates to the girl’s parents, who had been trying to find her for a week now. Something popped up on the screen, translated a moment later by Torchwood’s software. “They’re ready! Just put here in the exact location.”

Gwen turned to the little girl, walking her over to the place they had marked. “Your parents are here,” she said. The girl smiled, throwing her arms around Gwen and thanking her. Gwen laughed, returning the hug. “You’re welcome. Now, come! Let’s get you home!” She situated her, then smoothed her clothes. Smiling sadly, Gwen stood back. As the little alien disappeared, she waved, and the team waved back at her. Gwen spun around after she had gone, grinning at the others nearby.

“You all right?” Ianto asked, taking a step towards her.

Gwen looked up at the sky, noticing something slightly brighter than the other stars, figuring it had to be the alien ship. As much pain and death as Torchwood saw day after day, it was fantastic to have some light in their lives. It made her feel as though everything was worth it. She looked back at Ianto and everyone else, who had already finished packing the few items they had brought out here and were waiting to leave. “Yeah. I’m always all right on days like these.”


	4. Dark (Where We Start From)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter refers to events that occurred at the end of Season Two, including character deaths.

She couldn’t do it anymore.

It had just been the week before that Gwen had decided her job was possibly one of the best. Strange, how things could change so quickly. Grey had come, along with John Hart – that annoying as hell old friend (if one could call him that) of Jack’s. The universe could have ended for all Gwen knew though, because the world had shattered that day for the Torchwood team.

Owen and Tosh were dead.

Yes, Owen had _technically_ died a little while ago, when he had been shot, but he had still been walking and working with them. For Tosh to tell them that he was completely gone had been devastating.

It had certainly been worse because Tosh had told them that news whilst dying from her own gunshot wound. Gwen could remember – was it half an hour ago? an hour? two? – kneeling in the floor with Jack as he held Tosh. The syringe was forgotten in her hand as the two sobbed, Ianto and John standing nearby. Tosh froze and was gone.

Whilst they were still here, not knowing what was going to happen. Ianto was at one of the computer terminals, numbly erasing the data for both Owen and Tosh. Gwen watched, transfixed for a moment, as Owen’s file disappeared into the flaming blue desktop and he was wiped from existence. Normally, this would have caused a strong reaction on her part, but she had already done enough crying to fill the Cardiff Bay. Jack was in front of Owen’s desk, clearing his stuff away, packing the white coat into plastic and lovingly putting it in the metal container. Gwen was doing the same with Tosh’s things, pausing over every item: a picture of her and Owen, a discarded reminder to herself, her thin glasses.

She almost lost it as she closed the lid. They had seen so many people die during this job, but not one of their own... not _two_ of their own. Did they think they were invincible? No. But perhaps they had been disillusioned with this job, thinking that they could just keep running with the best of them, saving the planet and always going home safe at the end of the day.

Owen and Tosh were dead.

Gwen had to keep reminding herself that. As much as it was killing her, there was something inside that made her want to believe that Tosh had simply stepped out for a coffee or that Owen was off in the basement yelling about being dead. Except he really was gone this time.

Gwen looked up in time to see Tosh’s file float away and another window pop up with a video – the last trace of Tosh’s existence that wasn’t locked in the morgue or shut within this box was there before them now, smiling at them. Gwen wandered over to Jack’s side, standing opposite Ianto. She stared blankly as Tosh began her goodbye message, trying not to cry again. God, would it ever stop? But no, she couldn’t look away, she couldn’t miss this last trace of one of their team: one of her family, one of her friends. Jack could manage to laugh at her little joke on wanting her death to be impressive, but Gwen could only prevent herself from yelling that she would prefer Tosh not dead at all. Dazedly, she listened as Tosh comforted them about her own end, willing no more tears to escape than the one that was already gliding down her left cheek. She found herself blinking more and more, though, as Tosh’s message came to an end. Tears now came more freely, but she was smiling sadly.

“I love you. _All_ of you. And... I hope I did good.” Tosh nodded, and then switched off the monitor. She was gone.

Owen and Tosh were…

“Now we carry on.”

Gwen almost started at Jack’s statement. She turned and looked at the monitor confusedly, tears still flowing down her face and beginning to gather at the bottom of her chin. Carry on? How the hell could they carry on at a time like this? Gwen tried to prevent a sob at the idea and found herself whispering her thoughts to prevent her voice from cracking. “I don’t think I can. Not after this.” Not after them dying. Not after such a dark time that made her want to do nothing but run away and not look back.

Jack’s arm found its way around her, and she drew close to him for comfort. “You can,” Jack said, making it sound simpler than it ever could be. He drew Ianto close, too, and the team huddled together. “We all can.” Gwen laid her head on Jack’s shoulder, finding her tears slowing once more. Could they? She didn’t know. “The end is where we start from.”


	5. Reflection (Retcon and Red Wine)

Gwen hadn’t thought that anyone – anyone being Jack or Ianto – had seen her take out one, small retcon pill when she had left work that day. Now, she was at home, finishing up dinner with Rhys, pill in her pocket and on her mind. It had been only two days before that Owen and Tosh had died. Yesterday had been spent numbly going through the actions, and today, Gwen had only one thing on her mind: she couldn’t do this anymore.

Rhys stood after finishing his dinner, hurrying to pick up his plate and clean up for them a bit, looking worriedly at Gwen as he did so. “You alright, love?” he asked, scraping excess food in the bin and then going over to the sink.

Gwen flashed him a smile. “Of course,” she said, sitting back in her chair, swirling the glass of wine on the table before her, but knew he wouldn’t just take that. “It’s just… Tosh and Owen…”

“I know.” He was back at her side, kissing her forehead. “If you want me to stay here?” he offered, stopping on his way to their room to gather his things. He rarely went away, but he and some mates had decided on a weekend trip. Needless to say, it hadn’t been planned with the expectation of the death of two of Gwen’s coworkers. She had promised him several times over these two days that she would be fine. Alone time would probably do her good.

“It’s _all right_ ,” Gwen promised, standing up to make good show of it. She encouraged Rhys playfully to their room, gathering his bag and pushing it at him. She smiled softly and kissed him, holding his face for a moment in her hands. Would she forget him? Surely not. He was her husband – stuff like that didn’t get erased. Did it? She filed the thought away for later.

But proper thought later never came. Once Rhys was sufficiently satisfied that Gwen would be able to last two days with naught but herself for company after the death of two of her friends, he kissed her goodbye and left their flat, with promise to call her as soon as he could.

Gwen was back at the table, staring at the glass of wine before her. She dug into her pocket and brought forth a small envelope containing it. The high-dose retcon pill that would wipe away Torchwood’s existence. Like she had been thinking all day, she couldn’t do this anymore. There were so many wonderful things that she had learned there, but so many horrible ones as well. She and Rhys… well, they would be better off, wouldn’t they? Without the threat of something horrible happening to their family? Without the thought that their future could be cut short if an accident could happen to Gwen herself? It just _hurt_ so much, seeing their team cut by two like that so quickly. It could happen to any one of them again. She couldn’t go through that, not again.

She picked up the pill. It had to be done. She dropped it into her wine glass, gave it another whirl, and then downed the remaining small amount of liquid.

Gwen barely made it to her bed before she passed out.

* * *

She woke up the next morning, looking around, head fuzzy, room spinning. Something was wrong. Something was missing.

Gwen sat up carefully, then glanced down confusedly at herself. Why had she gone to bed in her clothes? On top of the duvet? She moaned as a slight wave of pain made her reach up to rub her temples. Had she gone out with her mates? Must have been one hell of a night. She got up and wandered the flat, expecting Rhys to be about, perhaps cooking up some eggs and toast. He wasn’t around, but she wrote it off, unable to do anything more than add it to the list of questions she had for the day. She staggered into the shower, numbly ate some breakfast, sat about and stared.

Something was wrong. She had a feeling of déjà vu. Had this happened before? This feeling of waking up and _knowing_ something was missing? She shivered, almost as though she felt someone watching her. A wave of paranoia swept her, and she felt a chill. She looked about, crossing over to the window with her arms across her chest, hugging herself. Nothing. No one. She was imagining things.

Gwen turned around again, deciding to check the table for a note that Rhys might have left, declaring why he was out. She started at what she found there instead: a pistol. Eyes widening, Gwen reached out and touched the weapon, gingerly picking it up. Why would they have this? What was it doing here? Despite her misgivings for the object, her hand curled so naturally about it. She was in awe at first of the reaction, but then suddenly set it down with a thud, terrified at the thought. She didn’t have a weapon in her job as a constable! She most certainly would have remembered if she had been issued with one.

Gwen rushed from the table back to their room, grabbing her mobile and making to call Rhys. She noticed other numbers just below his. Furrowing her brow, she read the names. Jack. Ianto. Tosh. Owen. Who the hell were they? She hesitated, but having a fierce need to know what was going on here – her head, the feeling that something was off, where Rhys was, the feeling that she was being watched, the gun, those names – she hit the button to call the first name. She slowly put the mobile up to her ear, barely registering the dial tones in her ear but starting as soon as a foreign, yet familiar, voice spoke.  
  
“Gwen!” a somewhat cheery voice said before turning into a more commanding tone. “Listen, we found something last night that I think you should take a look at. Wanna stop in soon? I know Rhys is out for the weekend, so why don’t you come on by? Thanks!”

And before she could speak, this 'Jack' had already cut the connection. Gwen stared ahead, then let her arm fall a moment later. What was going on here? All these things she was missing, all the things she felt she was supposed to know! What had happened? Had she hit her head and lost her memory? Perhaps it was important – no, it _was._ She _had_ to remember, she couldn’t let it stay lost. She found herself grabbing her bag, rushing out of the flat to the car, driving, and not knowing what was going on. She found herself a while later nearing Cardiff Bay, parking expertly in a place she didn’t remember, walking forward towards the bay itself, going across Roald Dahl Plass. She entered a little tourist shop, staring about in wonder. This hardly looked like a secret she would have cared about losing. But then, when a door swung open, and she went down the hallway, she swallowed, unsure of what exactly she had lost and if she had meant to lose it or not.

The cog door opened, and Gwen was in the Torchwood Hub. She saw no one, but somehow, didn’t expect to. Her heart thudded, and she felt tears going down her face, not knowing why. She walked forward, her Conversed feet padding softly, a shaking hand reaching out to touch a desk. She swallowed hard, taking another step forward, reaching for the next desk, running her fingers over it. Eyes wide, she looked around, taking in everything around her. She didn’t think that she had exhaled once since she had come into the place. _Something was missing._ And something was wrong. She had a sudden feeling of guilt that she couldn’t place, in addition to a sorrow that she didn’t want to know. Had she somehow made herself forget? Was there a _reason_ she couldn’t figure it out?

Her stomach twisted for some reason as she saw the couch, and she gingerly sat upon its edge. She set her jaw as she stared out at the desks, knowing that memories were just within her reach. Tentatively, she reached into her bag and pulled out the gun she had found on her kitchen table, knowing that it somehow was connected with all this before her. She closed her fingers around the barrel and handle, then gasped. She set the gun down on the table before her and threw herself back against the couch, sobbing uncontrollably.

 _Owen and Tosh were gone_. Torchwood remained. And she had tried to forget.

“Gwen?” Jack asked softly. She felt the couch depress beside her. Her face was in her hands, and she merely shook her head in response. “Gwen, I saw the missing pill.”

“What do ya do, count them?” she spat, instantly feeling terrible as she said it.

He chuckled lightly. “Somethin’ like that.” He shifted, turning towards her. “Gwen, listen to me.” She sobbed again, letting her hands fall, though shaking her head and keeping her eyes shut. He reached out and grabbed her shoulders. “Gwen. _Listen._ You can’t forget. You can’t just run away from your problems.” He sighed a little wistfully. “Take it from me. I know.” She opened her eyes finally, but refused to meet his. Tears clouded her vision anyway. “You could have talked to Ianto or me, you know. Perhaps we should have all talked together anyway. This is probably _my_ fault, you running out and trying to retcon yourself.”

“Jack, it’s not –”

“No,” Jack intervened, shaking his head. He reached up, bringing his hands up to cup her cheeks and force her to look up at him, bleary as she was. “Come on, Gwen. Maybe if we just took time to reflect on this instead of running away from it–”

“Reflect?” Gwen snapped, jerking back from him a bit. She reached up with her hands, wiping roughly at her eyes to remove the gathered moisture there. She stood up angrily, staring down at him with wide, blazing eyes. “Owen and Tosh just _died._ We all run about like we’re ruling the world, like we’ve got everything under _control._ And we don’t!” Her voice had risen, and her throat protested as she all but screamed hysterically at him. “We can’t keep doing it like this, Jack! Someone else is just gonna get hurt and die! I can’t take that again. I really can’t.” A loud sob prevented her from speaking for another moment, and Jack sat there quietly, allowing her to rave. “I can’t let my family – I can’t… Rhys…” She faltered, unable to find the words she needed. She looked desperately at Jack, and he nodded understandingly. She swallowed at the thick knot that had formed in her throat, but it refused to budge. She put her hand on her forehead, looking off.

Jack stood up at last, trying to give her a comforting hug, but she refused to let him near. “Gwen,” he said heavily, “you know that Rhys supports you in whatever decision you make. But I have a feeling that if had been home this weekend to find out that you had retconned yourself, or had even made it home this weekend to discover you like that, I think I would have had a very angry Welshman calling me up.” He smiled sadly at her. “You can’t just do things like that. You just tried to wipe two years of your life away. What if you had forgotten him, too? What about all the other things in life that you would have forgotten? And what about all the _good_ things you’ve seen here? That… _fantastic_ universe out there, all around us. All the people we help here. All the memories of Tosh and Owen, even if they’re gone. You wouldn’t have had any of that.”

Gwen stared ahead blankly, knowing he was right and not wanting to admit it. Of course she had thought about that. But when she had been staring down that pill and had been thinking of all the horrible things, in addition to the danger that her future presented her and Rhys, it had felt like it was the only option. In her mind, that retcon pill had become her version of suicide: with it, she could forget everything and be free of her burdens. Free from saving the world and free from the fear of failing again. The temptation it had presented of a happier, ignorant life had been too much in the aftershock of sorrow. The purging of Torchwood from her mind – though perhaps many other things as well. Rhys would have been upset with her, too, and she knew it. She had taken matters into her own hands, not telling anyone or consulting anyone at all. It had been dangerous, and she hadn’t thought too far into that either. She looked up, suddenly realizing her sense of paranoia earlier. “You were watching me,” she said simply, not an accusation but a statement.

“I was looking out for you.” Jack sighed. “Look, Gwen. If you want to forget all that, you needed to talk to Rhys first. He needed to know what was going on, what you were about to do, and how it was going to affect you both.” He smiled ruefully. “Besides, it’s hardly unknown that you don’t particularly take to retcon. Too stubborn and all that.” Gwen couldn’t help but smile somewhat affectionately in response, but remained quiet. He stepped forward, and this time, she allowed him to hug her. “If you ever need to talk…”

“I know,” Gwen said, cutting him off. “But don’t tell me that Jack Harkness is going soft. Wanting to talk and reflect and all that.”

Jack smirked. “Never.”

Gwen felt a tear left in the aftermath sliding down her face. She stared out at the desks that once housed Tosh and Owen. She curled up more in Jack’s embrace. Joking aside and sins forgiven, her fears still faced her. “I still don’t think I can do this,” she whispered, admitting what she had known the past two days all too well. “I don’t know how.”

Jack looked at Gwen and smiled a bit, pulling back to look once more at her fully. Gone was the naïve female that had entered this place two years ago, and instead, a universe-weary and burdened woman stood in her place. There was only one way they could pull out of this. His own guilt that he had done this to her and the others was shoved aside, and he instead resorted to the mantra that he had taken for himself in the face of a now-small team. “How about all together? Just one day at a time.”


	6. Complicated (Could've Been Tomatoes)

Months later, and just when Gwen had somewhat started to convince herself that Jack had been right, things had gotten complicated again.

The thought had first crossed her mind that things would not be so easy at work that day when all the children had stopped moving and started screaming in unison. She had found herself at the computer, soon surrounded by Jack and Ianto. They began delving into whatever information they could find, but the deeper they dug, the more difficult things got. The whole circumstance was surrounded with a mystery that seemed to be just out of their reach. Things had only gotten stranger from there on out, for Gwen next found herself crossing over to the dark side – that was, England. Joking to Rhys about having her vaccinations, she had gone to visit a man who had also had the same experience as the children. He gave her news that only complicated matters further.

She was pregnant.

Or perhaps that made things all the more simple, really. Survival instinct kicked in, stronger than ever for Gwen, for now, she not only had herself to care for but her and Rhys’ unborn child as well. Jack had been found with a bomb in his stomach, and whilst it had been one of the wildest leaps of faith that Torchwood had ever had to make, Gwen and Ianto left the Hub their separate ways to ensure their safety and to hope for Jack’s. The rush of air, heat, and noise that was only part of the effects of the bomb (including the ruin of the Hub, no access to all their technology, and the possible death of Jack Harkness) had thrown Gwen to the ground, but she couldn’t stop there. Even later, as she burst out of the ambulance after some had tried to kill her, guns blazing, she wouldn’t stop. She had gone home, gathered Rhys, and together, they had run away. London was their only hope, and they certainly had no idea that they were getting closer to danger and those that had wanted them dead to begin with.

And then there were the potatoes. Things couldn’t _possibly_ have worked out so that they didn’t have to ride all the way to London in the back of a lorry loaded with potatoes. Rhys was going on about what to name their unborn child, and for the moment, Gwen could have been able to enjoy things more if she wasn’t pregnant, riding on a lumpy mass of potatoes and being thrown about. He held up another potato, after pronouncing one Edward, and grinned at her. “Victoria for a girl?” he suggested, looking at her before peering at the potato. “Could do, I s’pose.” Gwen chuckled a bit, looking ahead and trying to concentrate on not being sick. “Something wrong, love?”

She glanced at him before looking down at her clasped hands. “I dunno. Could be that my job was just blown up. Could be that my boss is possibly dead after being torn into pieces. Could be that people are trying to kill me for reasons I can't even begin to guess.” She huffed, then winced as her stomach gurgled in a way that suggested it didn’t particularly like this whole ride experience. “Could be that we’re riding on potatoes and I’m pregnant!”

Rhys stared at her for a moment, then looked down. Gwen felt a little twinge of guilt at her little outburst, but said nothing. Then Rhys spoke. “Could’ve been tomatoes.”

“Sorry?” Gwen asked, raising her eyebrows and giving him a somewhat incredulous look.

“Just sayin’,” he went on, shrugging, “that we could have gotten in the lorry carrying tomatoes. Wouldn’t have been pretty, that. We’d have had those bursting all over us, we would!” Gwen smiled softly at his joking. Always trying to make her laugh, always had done. “And us, coming out at the end, with tomato guts all over us! Wouldn’t we have been a sight!” He chuckled, and Gwen couldn’t help but laugh a little herself, grinning more as he elbowed her a bit.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Gwen said softly, still smiling at him.

“Well, where else would I be?” Rhys returned, laughing to himself some more.

“You know what I mean!” she teased back, hitting him lightly on the arm. She turned over to lie on her back, and he leaned on his elbow, lying on his side to her right. Her hand rested lightly on her stomach, thinking of the child that was within. Rhys’ other hand went to rest lovingly on top of her’s. “It’s just that everything got so… complicated all of a sudden.”

Rhys looked at her more seriously, suddenly leaning forward to kiss her. “I’ll always be here,” he stated when he released her lips, though still close enough that she felt his breath on her cheek. “I can promise you that. Even when things _do_ get complicated.”


End file.
